Because He's Perfect

by Anna Edwards

  “I shouldn’t have done that,” he said.

  “Technically, I did it,” I said, taking a step in his direction.

  He backed up, his hands in the air, warding me off. “Things have changed, Jess. I’m not the man I was. You need to stay away.”

  A prickling sensation crept along my spine, alerting me once again that something was very off. “I’m not the woman I was,” I said patiently. “None of us are the same as our younger selves, Wade. We’ve all been scarred by our experiences.”

  “You don’t understand,” he mumbled, setting off in the direction of the kitchen.

  At least it used to be the kitchen, and I doubted Wade had remodeled his ancient family home.

  I watched as he disappeared around the corner. I gnawed my bottom lip, trying not to be seriously offended at his obvious disgust that we’d locked lips. Maybe I should just go, leave well enough alone, let the memories of our idyllic love remain a hazy recollection of warm summer days and hot bodies sliding against one another.

  Oh, fuck it.

  I found him hunched over a coffee machine, one of those expensive contraptions found in coffee shops all over the country.

  “I still take mine strong, black, with plenty of sugar,” I said, leaning against the doorjamb.

  Wade slowly turned around, his face bruised with exhaustion. “What do you want from me, Jess?”

  “Well,” I said, elongating the word. “Right now, I want you to make me a coffee.” The corner of his mouth twitched. “After that, I was hoping you’d take a walk with me.” I pointed at my feet. “I wore sensible shoes and everything.”

  Wade barked out a laugh, the action taking ten years off him. “You never could take no for an answer.”

  I grinned and edged into the kitchen. I pulled out a stool and parked myself at the breakfast bar. “Would you have me any other way?”

  His smile fell, and he turned away and fiddled with the machine. A few moments later, the smell of coffee reached me. I sniffed appreciatively. Wade put a steaming cup of the black stuff in front of me and took a seat opposite, curving his hands around his cup.

  “So, how’ve you been?” I asked, taking a sip.

  He shrugged. “Not bad.”

  “I’m sorry about your dad. I wanted to send you a letter, or an email maybe, but after all this time, it felt like an intrusion, I guess.”

  “Thanks,” was his sullen reply.

  I was about to give up, to tell him this had been a mistake and sometimes memories were better left untouched, when he said, “Tell me about your life, Jess.”

  My forehead creased. “What do you want to know?”

  “Everything. I only know scant details. Neither your mother nor your sister have mentioned you much over the years.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me,” I said, keeping my tone purposefully matter-of-fact.

  “The proverbial black sheep,” he said somberly.

  “Takes one to know one.”

  His mouth curved upward. “Us against the world.”

  I smiled, even though his words cut me deeply. “We were a helluva team.”

  He clinked his coffee cup against mine. “Come on, Jess. I really want to know.”

  I lifted a shoulder. “There really isn’t much to tell. I live and work in Chicago at a county hospital where I specialize in autoimmune diseases. I could have gone into private practice, but it just didn’t sit right. I’ve been married—and divorced. Twice.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m such a catch.”

  I expected him to laugh, except instead, his eyes bored through mine. “Any kids?” he asked, a hitch to his voice.

  I shook my head. “No time, hence the divorces. I’m married to the job.”

  That was only a partial truth. For sure, both my first husband, Andy, and my second, Mark, had regularly called me out on the hours I worked and the impact it had on our marriage. I lost count of the number of arguments I’d had with both my exes that centered around how I preferred the hospital to either of them. That it happened to be true wasn’t something I particularly wanted to admit.

  But the real reason both my marriages had failed was down to the man sitting opposite. I couldn’t give away my heart because it had already been captured.

  “I’m sorry.”

  I gestured dismissively. “It’s fine. Ancient history.” Not that ancient, considering the ink isn’t yet dry on my latest divorce. “What about you? Do you regret not having kids?”

  He nodded, and the sadness in his eyes tore at my heart. “We tried, but it never happened for us.”

  “It’s never too late.”

  He blew out a resigned breath through his nose. “I’m afraid it is.”

  He stared out of the window with drooped shoulders and a bent spine, looking for all the world like a beaten man. God, he must still be so cut up over Clara, and here I was, planning to make my move and take advantage of a guy who was probably still mourning his father as well as his marriage.

  He opened his mouth to say something, then seemed to change his mind.

  “Go on,” I encouraged.

  “Why’d you never come back to me, Jess?” he blurted.

  His question stunned me, sending my eyebrows shooting upward. “Hang on,” I said, incensed. “You were the one who ended it. You chose Clara.”

  He shook his head. “Clara chose me.”

  I snorted. “Same difference.”

  His gaze cut to mine. “You gave up on us. What was I supposed to do, huh? Hang around in the hopes that you’d realize what we had was the kind of love that only comes along once in a lifetime, when in reality, you’d found a new love to replace me. Your love of medicine.”

  The bitterness to his tone sliced through me, a burning knife tearing the protective flesh around my heart. “If that’s how you truly felt, then why didn’t you say anything? That day I came home to see if the rumors were true, that you’d proposed to Clara, you never said a goddamn thing about how you felt. And you looked so fucking happy. I may be selfish and self-centered, but even I’m not so cruel as to reveal how even thinking of you with someone else made it difficult to breathe. How, even all these years later, it’s still difficult to breathe.”

  His head fell into his hands. “If you’d never left, then none of this would have happened.”

  “None of what, Wade? You cheating on Clara?”

  His head snapped up, and his eyes were round as saucers. “I never cheated on Clara. Jesus.” He raked a hand through his hair, still thick and black and luscious. “I hate this fucking town.”

  I remained silent, waiting for him to look at me. When he did, his eyes held a hopelessness that sent a shuddering tremor down my spine. He was telling the truth. The gossips had this all wrong. Whatever had happened between Clara and Wade hadn’t come about because of his infidelity.

  I reached for his hand, but he withdrew out of reach.

  I sighed. “What happened, Wade? Please talk to me. You used to be able to tell me anything. We both shared secrets when we were younger, and I’ve never broken your trust. The kind of connection we had never goes away, not really.”

  He turned those absorbing eyes on me. “Do you ever wish you’d stayed?”

  “No,” I answered, immediately regretting my bluntness because of the flash of pain that crossed Wade’s face. “But I do regret not working harder to persuade you to come with me.”

  Wade’s shoulders curved inward. “You know I wouldn’t have been able to leave. I had a duty to Dad.”

  An idea pricked at me, taking root. And once it was there, it wouldn’t be plucked from its new home.

  “There’s nothing holding you here now,” I said. “We might have been on separate tracks back then, but now, I don’t know, Wade, it just feels right, you know?”

  He gave a short, sharp laugh. “It’s too late, Jess.”

  I shook my head firmly. “No, it’s not. It’s never too late. Not if we want it badly enough.”

  “That’s just it. I don�
��t.”

  I winced. And there it was. His true feelings, despite his earlier interest lighting the embers of hope that life would throw me another chance at happiness. I scrambled down from the stool.

  “Well, I guess that says it all. Have a nice life, Wade.”

  And I left.

  Chapter Six

  Jess

  I didn’t get far. Wade caught up with me before I was even halfway across the vast hallway. His arms came around my waist, holding my back to his front. His lips touched my ear.

  “I’m sorry, Jess. I’m so goddamn sorry.”

  I wrestled free from his hold and spun around to face him. “For what? Telling me the truth? It’s fine, Wade. I never stopped wanting you. You don’t feel the same. No biggie. Well, don’t worry. I’m heading back to Chicago first thing tomorrow, and then you and I will never have to see each other again.”

  I marched over to the front door, holding back tears that painfully pricked at the backs of my eyes. I’d let them go as soon as I was out of Wade’s sight. I wasn’t a huge crier, but on the odd occasion I’d let my emotions get the better of me, I’d learned that stopping the tears gave me a terrible headache and a throat consisting of razor blades. No good could come of it.

  I flung the door open.

  “Don’t go,” he pleaded, his voice swathed in sadness. “Please.”

  I hesitated, shook my head, turned to face him. “Why? What’s the point?”

  Conflict played out on his face, his brows pulled low, lips pressed tightly together in a grimace, his gaze ping-ponging, avoiding mine.

  “I lied,” he said quietly.

  I waited for more, but when none was forthcoming, I said, “About Clara?”

  “No. I did not cheat on Clara. She cheated on me. But that’s not what I meant.”

  He took a few tentative steps in my direction, each one bolder than the last when I didn’t move. I was still stunned by his revelation when he reached me.

  He bowed his head. “I do want you, so badly it hurts. In here, you know.” He clenched his fist and punched it over his heart. “I was so angry when you left without giving me another thought. You knew I couldn’t leave here, and yet you didn’t love me enough to stay. And Clara was there, and I was so lonely.” He briefly rubbed his face, then tilted his chin defiantly. “When you came back, I was too damned proud to tell you it was you I really wanted. That you were the one I dreamed about, the one who made my life whole. So I pretended that Clara was the one I truly wanted. It worked.” He shrugged. “You believed me.”

  I cradled his face, then grazed my fingers over his stubble, the sensation simultaneously familiar and new. “Come back to Chicago with me. We can start afresh, away from the small minds of this shitty town. Away from everything that brings us sadness.”

  He closed his eyes and leaned into my touch. “I wish I could, but I can’t.”

  “Why? What’s stopping you? Clara’s gone, your dad’s passed away. There’s nothing for you here but bad memories and this creaking, old, too-big-for-one house.”

  He stepped away. His fisted hands shook by his sides, and he refused to look at me. “You don’t understand.”

  I expelled a frustrated huff. “Then explain it to me.”

  His expression was so pained, the skin pulled tight over his high cheekbones, his brows formed into a deep V. “I’m sorry, Jess.”

  He hung his head. My heart bled for him and for me, but I didn’t want to just walk away, not without putting up a fight. I’d given in too early at the tender age of twenty. I wasn’t about to make the same mistake, not now I knew he wanted me, but something was holding him back from committing.

  Deciding on a different tactic, I squeezed his hand. “How about that walk?”

  He brightened instantly, his smile slow to build, but when it came, it took my breath away. He was still the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, and no one could help but feel warmed by the light in his eyes.

  “Sounds good. Give me a sec.”

  He took off up the wide, wooden staircase. When he returned, he’d changed into jeans and a black T-shirt, and was wearing a light burgundy jacket that reminded me of good quality wine. He grabbed a set of keys and opened the door.

  I waited while he locked up, then threaded my hand through his arm. He didn’t shy away, so I took the opportunity to nestle closer.

  We set off across the rolling fields at the back of his house, a trail familiar to us both. As we turned left at the bottom and cut through a small woodland, I instantly knew where he was taking me. My pace picked up the closer we got.

  Wade grinned down at me. “You remembered?”

  I nodded. “How could I forget. The lake.”

  “Our lake,” he corrected. “We had so many good times down here.”

  A deep sense of serenity quelled the noise in my head as the wide expanse of water came into view between the trees. The late afternoon rays of sunshine danced across the surface, and a mother duck with her babies paddled their way to the shore. The sound of birds singing echoed off the trees, and I tuned in to listen. Living in a city meant I rarely heard birdsong, but out here, modern day noise pollution hadn’t tarnished nature’s garden, and I was given a glimpse of Heaven.

  We broke through the trees, into the warmth of the summer sun. Struck with a memory, so intense it could have been real, I saw our eighteen-year-old selves strip naked and run into the water, laughing and splashing each other. Then our bodies had come together, and Wade had kissed me with such ferocity and love, I’d assumed nothing would ever tear us apart. The next day, I’d received the offer to attend college, and within a month, I’d left.

  Overcome with an urge to recapture my youth and the feelings Wade had stirred within me that day, I bent down and removed my boots. In seconds, I’d stripped down to my underwear.

  Wade’s eyes widened as he watched me remove my clothes. “What are you doing?” he asked.

  I grinned. “Pretending I’m eighteen.”

  I unclipped my bra and threw it at him. He caught it, and I let out a whooping noise and ran into the lake. I was still wearing my panties, but I could easily go commando on the journey back. Go without a bra? Yeah, not such a good idea.

  The water wasn’t freezing, but it wasn’t exactly warm either, and I gasped as the cold hit my skin. As soon as I got my shoulders under, though, I acclimatized. I stared at the shore. Wade was standing there, his features tight, my bra still clenched between his fingers.

  “What’s the matter?” I said, goading. “You chicken?”

  He shook his head, but it was one of those “What the hell am I going to do with this woman?” kind rather than “Fuck, no.”

  “You’re wild,” he called out, although he still made no move to join me.

  I jumped in the air, creating an arc of spray around me before sinking beneath the water once more. “Come on, Wade. You know you want to.” I grinned. “Worried what the cold will do to your man parts?”

  He laughed then and, for a second, I saw the carefree, fun-loving Wade I’d fallen for. God, I wanted that guy to stick around because this new version was carrying some serious baggage. I wanted to take some of the load, to wash away the bitterness that twisted his mouth and dulled his eyes.

  “Fine, you win.” He shucked off his jacket, removed his jeans, then pulled his T-shirt over his head.

  Oh my… God!

  The teenage Wade had been fit, lean, well-muscled, but the thirty-six-year-old Wade cast a great big shadow over his younger self. He clearly worked out. A lot. Broad shoulders, tight pecs, arms to die for, the kind that were made to protect his woman. The sight of him tightened my throat, so much so I found it difficult to swallow.

  And then he started running toward the water. He dived into the lake, coming up for air right in front of me. I knew what he was going to do, but I didn’t react quickly enough. He picked me up and tossed me into the water. I resurfaced, spluttering and coughing.

  “You’re dead, Phillips
,” I said.

  “Oh, yeah,” he countered. “Gotta catch me first.”

  He swam off, heading for the center of the lake, his powerful body easily cutting through the water. I wasn’t nearly as accomplished a swimmer, and it took me a few minutes before I caught up to him. Out here, I couldn’t reach the bottom, so I had to tread water to stay afloat.

  “You’re still an ass,” I said.

  He snagged me around the waist, just as he’d done all those years ago. “And you’ve still got great tits.”

  Before I could respond, he launched me into the air again. I landed with a thud that knocked the breath from my lungs, but I didn’t think the water was solely responsible.

  Wade thinks I’ve still got great tits.

  I’d take it.

  I swam over to him. He watched me the whole way, his expression guarded, as though he wasn’t sure what retribution I’d dish out. But instead of pushing a shitload of water in his face, or pinching him hard, or trying—unsuccessfully—to dunk him under the water, I wrapped my arms around his neck, my legs around his waist, and I kissed him.

  He hesitated, but the moment was so brief, I might have imagined it. Even so, the whole time our mouths moved against each other’s, I expected him to push me away, like he had earlier. A rumble sounded through his chest, and he curved his hands under my butt, holding me in place as his soft lips explored mine. After a few seconds, he drew back, pushing wet hair from my face. Neither of us spoke, we just stared into each other’s eyes, reconnecting, rediscovering our youthful selves, binding us together with the people we now were. Never had the saying ‘the eyes were the windows to the soul’ rang more true. If I looked back on this moment in years to come, I’d recognize that this was the moment he’d decided to let me in.

  He grazed his knuckles over my damp cheek. “Come to dinner tonight,” he said. “We need to talk.”

  “About Clara?” I asked.

  He nodded. “Among other things.”

  I had no clue what those other things might be, but I didn’t care. All that mattered was that Wade wanted to talk. And I was anxious to listen.